


all i feel is celestial desire

by ekallos



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Anne of Green Gables - Freeform, F/M, Nature, Shirbert, Unrequited Love, anne and gilbert are cute, based off the tv show on netflix, havent read the book im so sorry, i want to try writing more descriptive language, quotes, so here i am, this is just a test run to see how i do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-29 22:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13937166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ekallos/pseuds/ekallos
Summary: "yellow love - their vitality teeters on the edge of reality, periodically drifting in and out of waking life to endure the pains of longing. "In which Gilbert Blythe can't stay away from Anne, even if he tried.





	all i feel is celestial desire

_"a distant joy is dancing all around me_  
_all i see is yellow in the spring air_  
_how beautifully the color worked itself in" - c._

 

* * *

 

Anne Shirley Cuthbert.

 

That was the name that had been plaguing Gilbert Blythe's mind for, it seemed, a century. A century of worldly desires, of longing, of silent pining. How she chooses to ignore  _him_ rather than say, getting to know him better, was beyond his train of thought. But looking at her now, with her graceful silhouette against a dying sky, those desires faded, leaving only innocence and love in its purest form. 

Marilla had told him where to find her at this time of day, as she particularly enjoyed to roam around the expansive acres of Green Gables, discovering nooks and crevices where she had not trekked to before. He was on a quest; she had left her books at school, and he was going to return them, no matter what he had to go through. He couldn't have her fall behind him in school. If she did, what would be the point of even going at all?

And now he was here. And she was dancing. Could she become any more perfect in Gilbert's eyes? His quest faded from his mind as he saw her free, independent soul, moving across the expansive field, arms and legs rhythmically moving in time to the beat of the song she was murmuring across her rosy lips. From behind the grass patch where Gilbert crouched (plain in sight), he heard the song. To him it felt sorrowful, almost as a mourning for a passed loved one, but Anne's movements were too ecstatic for that. She was smiling, a wide grin stretched across her slim and milky pale face. He watched, completely entranced, as she sat down a few meters away from his hiding spot, still singing the tune, although now reduced to a gentle whisper. If it were any more quiet, Gilbert could mistake it for a runaway wisp of wind kindly blown by his ear. Yet he still heard the song, and now he could hear the words. He shuffled to get into a more comfortable position where he could still hear and watch Anne sing.

He placed Anne's books down softly in the grass, barely making a sound as Anne sat down in the wild field, hair flowing down the side of her face, the hair Gilbert felt as if no words created by humans could describe. To her it was ugly, untouchable, undesirable. But to him, it was what captured the essence of her captivating soul. The red, no...not red. Red was too little of a word to use. Gilbert would use the phrase...a glorious golden, with a touch of auburn. Of course, the correct term would be "red headed", but Gilbert had no such use for simple terms. 

Her glorious golden-auburn hair trailed down her face, tenderly kissing almost every inch of it, some strands getting lost and sticking to her face where there had been once a drop of perspiration. Nonetheless, she looked perfect, and her poetic melody reached his ears.

 

_A flower, a flower,_

_how lonely are you?_

_Your friends are out playing_

_Without a second to lose._

_But poor, poor thing,_

_you were left in the cold._

_Not a blanket, nor a cape_

_Just one drop of gold._

 

He didn't quite understand the poem, but it was moving all the same. Gilbert saw her fondly caress the petals of the wild daisy she had picked out from a sizably large field of them. This flower, however, Gilbert could not see, for the grass blocked his vision.

But he continued to listen to her poetry, as she rambled on endlessly about how the other flowers were just being bullies, and to not take into mention about how much livelier they were than itself. He saw her smile, almost sadly, and then stand up quickly, dress flouncing and ruffling as she did so. She looked up just as the wind picked up, and her hair blew around her face in a whirlwind, but keeping it untangled. 

Gilbert's eyes were so fixed on Anne. He felt nothing could take them off her, unless they were forcibly jerked away, almost like if he were in a dream. He hoped this dream would never end, but if it did, he would wake up to be in a more pleasant situation, which proved impossible at this point.

As she began to walk towards him, Gilbert began to feel uneasy. He knew she was there. He saw her walking. He knew the distance between them. He was absolutely sure she wouldn't see him if she continued down the worn trail that eventually winded away from his protected spot. 

So then why did he feel so exposed?

At that moment, Gilbert caught Anne's radiant cerulean eyes in his own. She had looked partially up from the snow-crusted ground she had been treading on just a few seconds before, and had caught a glimpse of Gilbert's burgundy flannel-style overcoat and his dark chocolate brown cap peeking out from over the grassy patch. 

The eye contact they held could not have been for more than 2 seconds, but to the both of them, it felt as if all of time was being exchanged in that one glance. That's how it usually went, at least for Gilbert. He saw himself in her eyes, being reflected back at him, which terrified and enticed him at the same time. He could not part from her gaze, as if she was a clear glass of water and he was a man in a drought. 

The sunlight bounced off her locks as it settled down on the horizon, sinking slowly into the ocean, but not before shooting several more rays in Anne's general direction, blinding Gilbert for the few seconds that Anne decided to make a move.

A loud  _thud_ could be heard across the plain as Anne brought her foot down on Gilbert's back, instantly knocking the wind out of him and rendering him useless. A sharp twang resonated in his lower back, and he knew there would be a bruise there in the morning. He tried desperately to pull words out of his mouth, but there was merely a small choke and silence as Anne pulled him up by the back of his coat, and stood him up on his two feet. He had his head down, and couldn't see Anne's face, but he expected it to be furious.

He felt a breath reach his face from the petite girl as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Gilbert Blythe, what in the _world_ do you think you're doing! I nearly thought you were Billy trying to use a sneak attack on me from behind!" Anne huffed and threw up her arms in exasperation. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, I swear on...well, I swear on myself! God, Gilbert Blythe! Can you answer me?" 

He felt the courage to look up a bit from behind his mop of brown curls that resided upon his head to sneak a glance at an enraged Anne. 

It was like looking at the face of a puppy you had only just pretended to throw a stick for. Her eyebrows were knitted together, eyes ablaze with rage and mortification, hands placed defensively on thin hips, and feet impatiently tapping. He couldn't help but grin, the whole situation was too funny.

He fake coughed, and tried to hold eye contact with her for just a second more, but she had begun to look elsewhere. He placed a hand on his back, letting out a small groan, looking at Anne still waiting for a reaction. 

"Gosh, Anne, did you have to kick me so hard? I wasn't going to beat you up, I promise," he smoothly stated, eyes fixated on her now jittery hands. He coughed again, and remembered the books. He jolted down and grabbed them, fingers brushing the spine carefully, as to not dirty them even more than they already were. He held them out to Anne, and she snatched it away, continuing to not make eye contact. Now her focus was on the books.

"I was just coming to drop these off. Mrs. Cuth- I mean, Marilla, told me that you'd be here. Or, somewhere around here," he added quickly when she saw a judging look shadow over her face. "...but you looked busy so I thought I should just wait until you finished with whatever you were doing." He paused, then spoke again. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to."

He saw her face reluctantly transform into a forgiving one, and he smiled as she finally looked up to him. Her eyes were soft, and a dusty pale rose made its way across her cheeks. 

"No, it's fine. I suppose I overreacted. It's easy to do that, you know, when one is alone for such a long time and suddenly a person comes and interrupts that silence. But," she looked back down to the books and hugged them against her chest, "thanks for bringing these to me. It means a lot." The corners of her mouth turned up, and she gave him a genuine beam of a smile, letting a chuckle slip through her teeth as well. She tugged on a single strand of hair, then tucked it neatly behind her ear.

There was another moment of silence between the two, Gilbert quietly taking in her natural beauty, Anne staring and fidgeting, eager to leave the second it was appropriate.

"Well, I should get going." 

Gilbert started. "W-wait, let me walk with you. It's getting dark, and I would feel horrible if something happened to you out here."

Anne seemed to turn this thought over in her head for a while, balancing the pros and cons of the predicament she had thrown herself into, before finally deciding, that yes, she would be ever so grateful if he walked her home.

 

* * *

 

 The sun had departed from its resting place on the ocean of sky and left Gilbert and Anne in the careful hands of the sun's counterpart, the shy and ever so lovely moon.

"I believe the moon deserves more recognition," Anne continued on, boots making a shuffle every instant they made contact with the crunching snow, "I mean, without it, a single day would only be six to twelve hours long! What a short amount of time to get everything done in, wouldn't you say?"

He had kept his eyes down on his boots as they walked, but now he looked up at the moon. It _was_ incredibly stunning and bright. Its light rested on everything around them - the silver crusted trees that were dusted with snow, the roofs of the buildings far off palely glowing a dim light, and the tops of Anne's head, worked into every strand of auburn hair, coming to land on her shoulders and face, accentuating her already pale features and giving her an angelic appearance. He turned away and brought his hands to his face, blowing hot air into them. He rubbed them together and quickly shoved them back into his inviting pockets.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

Anne looked at him and made a muffled snort. "You suppose so? I-" she paused. He glanced over at her to see what was the matter until he found out himself.

It had begun to snow. Anne's face had turned upwards and her eyes were closed, eyes fluttering ever so slightly as the flakes attached themselves to the quivering eyelashes. She opened her eyes and sighed, a smile softly inching across her face. Gilbert stared as Anne stuck out her tongue, letting a single snowflake daintily land on it, and squeaking when the realization of the cold hit her nerves. She laughed, and Gilbert felt like maybe she forgot he was even here, for she was enjoying herself so much he thought he might as well be Diana Barry, her best friend.

Anne sighed and fixed her cap, still letting a giggle or two slip out, then looked at Gilbert.

"This is thy hour O Soul! thy free flight into the wordless..." She stepped forward once, twice. "Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done." Crunch, crunch. Scuffle, scuffle. "Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best!" With this, a flourish of the arms followed. Gilbert picked up the pace as Anne was beginning to run. "Night, sleep, death and the stars."

He caught up to her finally. Anne was breathing fast, but not heavily, and she was smiling even harder now. She turned back to Gilbert.

"Walt Whitman is an incredible poet. I absolutely adore his writing! And in this particular scene, I couldn't help but to enjoy myself. Oh! Did I startle you?" Her elated face turned worried, and he had to stop himself from chuckling. He waved his hand. "No, no. It was quite nice, really. Listening to you recite poetry." Anne straightened up, and a blush rose upon her cheeks. "Oh, then in that case, let's move on. I really can't stay out much longer or Marilla won't let me leave the house ever again..." Gilbert nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we wouldn't want that to happen, would we?" He smirked, and continued to walk with Anne closely following him.

The rest of the walk was silent, but Gilbert could once in a while hear Anne whisper to herself, about what, he couldn't tell. But she seemed aggravated, so far as the tone of the whispers went.

It had to have been close to the end of the evening, as it had already become so dark. Although Gilbert could now start to make out the lights from the lamps lit up in the town, it still felt as if they were wrapped in a cloak of darkness, just protecting them two and nobody else. He liked it like that. And god, what he would give just to have a nice conversation with Anne. He turned around to check on her, and her eyes were there to meet his for a good second before flicking away off to the side. He sighed and turned back around. _It's really no use,_ he thought to himself. _She's not ever going to see you in that way._

He looked around him, noticing the vast forest that surrounded them on all sides, leaves rustling as a slight breeze jostled them around, the greens mixing with blacks until he couldn't tell a shadow from a leaf. The spaces in between the trees were just as concealed, and it made him uneasy to ponder about what could be lurking in the shadows, watching them. He turned away quickly, and focused on getting to the town. It would be safe there.

From here, Gilbert could just make out the winding trail that led out of the forestry into the still town. It was only a few more yards, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The forest seemed to open up for them, and he quickened his pace before it decided to change its mind. 

"Ah- Gilbert! Wait!" He heard a cry from behind him, and immediately slowed his pace. He looked to greet Anne as she caught up with him, and smiled at her as she peered at him from behind her brimmed hat, eyebrows furrowed. "You know I don't have nearly as long legs as you do," she muttered. Gilbert's eyes widened as he felt her arm slip smoothly in between the crook of his own arm, clutching his elbow lightly. He blinked at her. 

"I- uh... are you-?"

"Don't even think about it."

Anne kept her eyes trained straight ahead, but underneath he could make out a faint, very faint, blush. Her pale face didn't conceal a single emotion, especially not to him, who was so experienced at reading people's facial expressions. He gazed at her concernedly, as he now felt her shivering presence even through his heavy coat. He coughed, then spoke. "Would you like to wear my jacket?" It's not like he needed it so much, anyway.

Anne jerked her head towards him, then looked back down again. "N-no. I can manage. We're nearly there, anyway. Just hurry up." 

Gilbert nodded, and continued walking, his other hand subconsciously placed on top of Anne's own. There it felt as if it could stay there forever, basking in the eternal warmth that radiated from Anne, even in the bitter and nipping cold. 

Anne had that effect on him, it appeared to be. No matter what mood he was in, Anne always intruded his thoughts, making him feel ten times cheerier than he was previously. He wasn't sure the cause behind that. Surely he didn't have a crush on her. No, labels didn't have to be applied like that. He felt as if she was a kindred spirit to him, someone who he knew could make a wonderful friend and companion. Perhaps one day, just maybe, their relationship might blossom from there. It didn't have to. Gilbert felt no pressure to become a husband, or get married to a woman. In the future, though, he could picture having a family. Maybe with a couple of kids, with locks just as red as their mothers, with freckles that they played connect-the-dots with, and with pale complexion that glittered in the early morning sunrise...

It could be a possibility that Gilbert was in love with Anne.

 _How could someone not be?_ he wondered. She was such a free spirit, such a magnetizing soul. He felt drawn to her with every step she took, every leap, every fall, every word, every laugh, every smile. Oh god, how it hurt. It was painful. How could someone not be in love with her. She was so many things, she wasn't confined. She was part of the world, and yet not. She ascended the pitiful boundaries of this world. She was ethereal. He felt his chest twang. One day she will leave, and she will leave without him. And he without her. It was meant to be that way. Two departing souls, only together for a short amount of time before they left each other. They were there just when the other needed them. But how could he ever forget about Anne Shirley? It was an impossible task.

Before he knew it, they were in the middle of the town square, underneath a pale street light, flies circling the light like a demented halo effect. The shops' windows were drawn, the once bustling streets deserted and drafty. Gilbert could almost see the faces of the people strolling down the sidewalk, going somewhere but with nowhere to go, saying a "hello" to every friendly face that passed. Gilbert stopped, breathing out, seeing his breath form in the chilly air, twisting and dancing effortlessly. He looked down to Anne, and saw she was mirroring him. Her eyes trailed the puff of breath she had sent out herself, lips trembling in the cold. He felt the urge to reach out and touch them, nothing more. Just run his thumb across them, to feel the gateway from which her awe-inspiring language decided to offer itself to the undeserving world. 

But he didn't. He merely touched her shoulder softly and reminded her that they were almost there. She nodded quickly, and began speaking again, something about the whole quietness of the place, how unsettling it was. Gilbert didn't find it so uneasy anymore, now since they were out of the darkness and back to civilization, and since Anne had started to grace him with her words once more. He smiled to himself the whole way back to Green Gables, keeping his head down and words limited. As much as he loved to talk to Anne, he loved to hear her talk to him more.

And then they were standing there, the gate that opened to Green Gables, to Anne's home, to his inevitable end. He stood there, she stood there, both knowing what to say, but too afraid to say it. Anne went first.

"I had fun walking home with you, Gilbert. It was quite a night to remember," she murmured, laughing softly. She gazed up at him with the eyes he knew so well, those astounding, mesmerizing, gracious blue eyes.

He smirked. "Definitely. And hey, I swear I wasn't stalking you. Remember to take those home next time so I don't have to get a beating from you again."

Anne laughed, hugging the books closer to her. "Yes, I will remember next time. Thanks again. Goodnight." She grabbed the latch to the gate, starting to unlock it.

Gilbert felt something tug in him, an urge that he couldn't forgive himself for if he didn't satisfy it at this instant. Moments such as these are fleeting, and if you become too afraid to take the risk, nothing can ever be accomplished. He surely didn't have the courage, but something else in him did, and he reached for her arm and pulled her closer to him. A squeak was forced from her as she bumped into him a little too hard, making him wince, not in pain, but in sheer embarrassment, and he pushed her away slightly, still keeping a grip on her arm.

"Gilbert Blythe what in the heavens name do you think-!"

A noise of surprise left her mouth and was cut off as Gilbert leaned towards her, eyelashes brushing together, noses gently pressed, lips softly embracing. A spark flew from this collision, like an automobile crash, but so much more magical. In Gilbert's words it was otherworldly, celestially perfect. There was no way to describe everything he felt. He felt  _her,_ he felt  _Anne,_ he was touching and reaching her when he never thought he could. He felt his trembling hand move up to her cheek, and nearly pulled it away when he found it to be so cold. But he pursued, pressing his fingers meekly against her cheekbone, his thumb tracing it over and over, back and forth, memorizing every beginning and end. He felt her breathe in through her nose in surprise, and at first he thought she was going to pull away, but then she relaxed, arms tentatively reaching up and over his shoulders, playing with a curl on the nape of his neck. They stayed like that, lips barely pressing together, but breath intermingled with the others so that he couldn't tell apart her inhale from his exhale. He felt her smile into the kiss, which made him smile, and then she began laughing, and then  _he_ began laughing. They pulled away, almost sadly, cheeks aglow with the sudden exposure to each other and the warmth of the others embrace. Gilbert hadn't wanted that to end, ever. It was like their two souls were being ripped apart, and he truly believed they were.

Anne's face was completely flushed, and although her mouth was moving and she looked like she was trying to say something, nothing came out. She closed her mouth shut suddenly, grabbed Gilbert's hand, and shook it. She then grabbed the latch on the gate and fumbled with it for a second before unlocking it and dashing inside, hand placed on top of her hat so as to not drop it in her haste. And like that, it was over.

Gilbert stood there for just a second more. He watched her close the door behind her with a slam, he heard her shout across the house the words "I'm home!", and turn off the outside light, leaving him once again in the dark.

He turned around and ran his hands through his hair, placing his cap back on his head. He headed home, thinking the whole way on how exactly he would explain to Anne Shirley Cuthbert that he was hopelessly, helplessly, foolishly in love with her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hello!  
> i know for some old people who've read my previous works, it's been a while. sadly, i have grown out of the haikyuu!! fandom and will not be posting for that anymore. as of now, i am a multi-fandom writer, although i don't do much of that either.  
> for some of you who were wondering, the title and story itself are heavily based off the song "yellow love" by citizen. i believe it quite resembles their relationship as of now in the t.v. series.  
> i hope you enjoyed this tiny oneshot, and leave a comment if you'd like more of it in the future, or if you really liked this one!  
> thanks!  
> (also dedicated to those awae fans still waiting for that season 2. the wait is almost over!)


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